


The Daydreamer

by frozen_hearted



Category: True Blood
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Godric Lives, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-03 02:13:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 19,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4082752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozen_hearted/pseuds/frozen_hearted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>***CURRENTLY EDITING***</p><p>Scarlett has never been a fan of vampires. Ever. Even as a child, hearing the supposed fictitious stories told by her father, she didn't like them. When they "came out of the coffin" in 2006, well, she really didn't like them. Living with her aunt, Ginger, who happens to work for one of the most notorious vampires in the United States, she finds herself suddenly forced into a world of blood, gore, sex and death. Her only prayer is not to fall for the attractive, cruel Viking that is Eric Northman and his equally attractive Maker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is currently being edited, so, be ready for some changes. Hopefully, though, the changes are for the better! Sorry for the incredibly long wait, I hope all of this makes up for it!

It was dark, dark enough that all I could see were outlines and shadows. The sun had set long ago. I was running, faster than I ever had before, though somewhere I knew it was useless. He would catch me. The tell-tale sound alerting me to his present - the crack of branches and twigs on the ground - rang loudly through the still air and I knew it was over, but I didn't stop running. With limited vision, I jumped over up-grown roots, ducked under low-hanging branches and even once leapt over a stream of fast running water, but still, I knew he was there. He wasn't gaining on me, no, he was right in front of me. The sudden appearance of his figure shocked me, sending me skidding forward in an attempt to stop, but I was moving too quickly and the ground was wet. Suddenly I was falling, air rushing past me as my body traveled downward. A pained groan left my lips as I landed hard against the forest floor.

At first, he didn't move. He stood still, like a beautiful marble statue, and as silent as Death itself. For a moment, I thought I was seeing things, my own paranoia finally breaking my mind and causing hallucinations, but soon enough, I realized this was not some creation of my over-active and wild imagination. He stalked closer to me, sticks and leaves cracking under his heavy footsteps. I suddenly wished I could read him as well as I read others. He stopped not even an inch in front of me. My heart hammered against my ribcage in anticipation and fear. Why wasn't he killing me yet? Normally when I attempted to run he would become furious and, after the hunt was over, he'd lock me away for days, weeks even. Something was different tonight. I didn't know what, but whatever it was settled heavily and uncomfortably in the back of my mind. Whatever it was twisted my stomach into a knot, threatening to bring to light my last nights meal - his blood. There was no doubt he could feel my fear, the sick bastard probably enjoyed knowing I was afraid.

He moved quickly and quietly, picking me up and tossing me, as if I was no heavier than a rag doll, hard against a tree. I grunted at the impact and the splitting pain that ran up and down my side. He was once again holding me, by the collar of my shirt, and then again throwing me, far across the clearing at another tree. He hadn't even given me the chance to fall. The impact against this tree seemed harder than the last, as if he put more anger into this throw. A sickening snap sounded loudly in the quiet air, forcing a blood-curdling scream from my lungs. I knew it was the was the sound of my ribs breaking. I could feel them splintering, the pain white hot in my side. He let me fall this time, my vision spotting as I hit the ground. My own blood splattered to the ground as I coughed and gasped and gagged, attempting to get back the air I'd lost. I could feel it become harder to breath, perhaps one of my ribs had punctured a lung. It was getting harder to see, as well, the outlines around me began to blur into near shapeless black blobs.

All hope left inside me vanished as he picked me up once more, his hand wrapped tightly around my throat. I didn't fight him, yet I winced in pain as he pushed me against the nearest tree. Higher and higher he slid my body up the rough bark, until my feet no longer touched the ground. I gurgled helplessly for air, his hold constricting my airways. Blood pushed its way up my throat and out my mouth in spurts. The blood splattered on him in waves. His face was soaked in my blood, yet still, he remained silent.

His silence unnerved me, even more so than the hand that was currently choking the life out of me. I dangled in his hold, weakly clawing at his ironclad grip and gasping for life, for I don't know how long, staring at him with tired and pleading eyes. He stared back, and though I couldn't clearly see his expression I knew he could see mine. Soon after, my vision began to fade, everything grew dim. Black spots once again appeared before my eyes, obscuring the blobs into total darkness. I was conscious just long enough to hear his chilling laugh and feel the sharp prick of his fangs pierce my neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Tell me what you think - what you liked, what you didn't - comments are greatly appreciated! Have a fun time reading!


	2. Chapter 1 - A Trip to Fangtasia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett, a 23-year-old college student, decides that tonight will be the first time she goes and visits her aunt Ginger at her workplace, the vampire bar Fangtasia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is currently being edited, so, be ready for some changes. Hopefully, though, the changes are for the better! Sorry for the incredibly long wait, I hope all of this makes up for it!

I jolted awake in a cold sweat, breathing hard, my heart pounding hard in my chest. The air I gulped in desperately burned against my dry throat. The covers stuck to me as I tried to move, they followed me to the floor until I finally kicked them away to lay in a heap at the side of my bed. My body ached, my side pulsing with pain, as I crossed cold floor of my bedroom to the adjoining bathroom. I flinched at the sudden brightness as I flicked on the lights, waddling over to the sink. The sound of running water drowned out my thoughts, the cool water refreshing on my overheated skin. For a moment, I simply stood there and breathed, collecting myself, forcing the nightmare to the back of my mind. With a sigh, I finally looked at the mirror. I wasn't surprised by what I saw, but disappointed - my eyes, once a vibrant green, were now dull and almost lifeless; my hair, once as blazing a red as any fire, had, just like my eyes, lost most of its shine; my face looked almost ghostly pale, like the vampires that now roamed the streets at night.

I ran a hand over my tired face, the thought creeping up on me that, that dream was the second one like that I'd had in a week - though the first had been much, _much_ milder. I'd been in the forest, taking an unusual midnight stroll when the snapping of twigs caught my attention. When I turned, standing a bit away on the path was a well-dressed man. His attire was old, almost mid-century French style, but his face was obscured by darkness. I called out to him, afraid, but he just answered with a smile. When I blinked, he had disappeared and that was when I woke up. Of course, I knew who the man was - though not his name - the dreams that I had of him were a recurring thing, but this was the first time they'd happened so close together.

"You're being paranoid, Scar," I whispered to myself, vigorously brushing my teeth before splashing cool water over my face once more. With one final glance in the mirror, I turned the water off and trudged back to my room.

The blood red color of my walls did nothing to calm my nerves. More than once had I asked to change the color, but my aunt always insisted 'red is a good color, Scarlett, and, as I always say, if it's not broke, don't fix it.' I rolled my eyes at the thought of my aunt, watching the moonlight and the shadows of the leaves outside my window dance across the floor. There was only one window in the whole of my large, cluttered room; it was on the very back wall and stretched nearly all the way from floor to ceiling. My bed sat flush against it, it's shadow reaching towards me, inviting me back under the covers. But I didn't want to go back.

The glowing green letters on my bedside alarm clock read 2:35. I groaned, but switched on my light and moved about, stepping over piles of unwashed clothes - hardly any of them my own - to grab something to wear for the evening. A pair of ripped jeans, a white t-shirt, a black leather jacket. After pulling on an old pair of high tops, I slunk back into my bathroom to brush out my hair and fix up my face. It was like I was on auto pilot, covering the bags under my eyes with foundation and the paleness of my cheeks with blush. I thought about exactly what it was I was getting ready for. My brush hand paused over my eyelid and I looked at myself - albeit with one eye - in the mirror. What was I getting ready for?

Something red in the corner of my eye pulled my gaze. I bristled in annoyance at the sight of the Fangtasia business card sitting on the top of my toilet. My aunt Ginger had been trying to get me to come for months to her little hole-in-the-wall vampire bar. The thought of vampires brought a frown to my face. I had never liked them, even when they were just monsters in the stories my father told me as a child; therefore, I'd never gone. _But_ , began a voice in a very far corner of my mind, _you have always been curious_. 

Grumbling, but firmly decided I would go and visit Ginger at her bar, I finished off the last of my makeup and looked myself over in the mirror. I grinned at the attractive girl that stared back at me before flipping off the lights. _At least now,_ I thought, _I don't look like total shit._

I went back into my room, watching the tree bend outside my window just for a moment, before I began to gather up the things I'd need to visit the bar - my laptop and its bag, my phone and my headphones. "You're just going to write. For an assignment in Creative Writing," I said to myself, slipping on a necklace from which a hung a bat shaped pendant - an ironic gift from an old friend - and my most favorite ring, a gift from my mother. It was a silver band with a single red gemstone placed in the center. Both were made of pure silver.

With everything gathered, and after checking myself once more in the mirror, I left my room. It was darker in the hallway than it had been in my room, there were no windows and all the lights were off. Scaling the wall, I made my way down the long hall and then down the creaking stairs and into my aunt's messy living room. The light from the moon guided me toward the front door, though I did end up tripping on her scattered junk at least twice before I finally made it. There was a note taped to it, and an arrow pointing towards the kitchen.

  

 Scar, I'm at work. If you're up early (or late) and wanna come and hang out, or just see where I work and meet new people (they are not bad, I swear) the keys to the truck are on the kitchen table. Call me first, that way I can alert my boss.

Love, Ginger

 

I looked curiously at my aunt's handwriting, taking the note from the door and reading it over carefully. "'...keys to the truck are on the table...'" Just outside I saw the moonlight glint off the surface of Ginger's truck, a dark red F-150 - a gift from my father, her brother, when he passed - but not my car. A feeling of nervous anger stirred in my chest as I crumpled her note in my fist. I followed the moon's light and found my way into the kitchen to see another note sat by Ginger's rusty ring of keys.

 

Also, I spoke to a mechanic, because I kind of... sort of... a little bit... maybe took Billie Joe out last night... Anyway, he said he should be back in your care by Tuesday of next month! 

Love you! (And I'm sorry!)

 

"Dammit, Ginger," I hissed, grabbing her keys from the counter. "Fuck you and your shitty driving." Spitting curses and hiking my computer bag higher up my shoulder, I finally left, slamming the door shut behind me.

It was dark outside, the only light I had to see where I was going was the moon. When I finally made it to Ginger's truck, after tripping over scattered beer bottles and nearly slipping on old newspapers, my anger had depleted some. "Damn woman had to take _my_ car out to do god-knows-what at god-knows-what hour," I muttered as I opened the rusting door and hoped in, "and she had to fucking wreck it too. Shit." I tossed my bag in the passenger's seat and started the car. The engine made a sort of clunking for a moment before it roared to life. I saw a light go on in the house next door and then a door burst open. Angry thoughts filled my head immediately.

_Damn woman, can't she get a less noisy truck! I wonder what that niece of hers is doing, letting her go out this early in the morning!_

As they stepped into the porch light I saw exactly who it was those thoughts belonged too. One of Ginger's older neighbors, Mrs. Irene Frank, she was shouting, waving her flabby arm and pointing her finger at me.

"Sorry, Mrs. Frank," I said sweetly as I attempted to roll down the window. It stopped at halfway down and wouldn't go any further.

"Scarlett?" The old woman said, "I thought you were your aunt."

_That damned vampire screwing skank._

"Well, I'm not," I laughed, "sorry if I woke you."

"No, you didn't," the old woman laughed.

_But you did interrupt._

"Harold and I were just playing a late-night game of ' _wrestling'_." I cringed at her words, but forced myself to smile. "I'm just sick and tired of your boneheaded aunt leaving in her blasted truck at all hours of the night."

_She probably leaves to go and find another vamp to bite her, the stupid dear._

"Sorry, Mrs. Frank, nothing I can do about that."

"Well, tell her it doesn't give her a good reputation with the neighbors."

_Or anyone around town. We all know what she does late at night._

"I will, Mrs. Frank."

"Okay," the old woman smiled at me, "you have a good night now."

_I hope she doesn't end up like her aunt, I like her. She seems like a good girl, going to college, getting a degree. Always so polite..._

"You too, Mrs. Frank."

The old woman watched me leave, waving as I pulled out of Ginger's driveway and onto the road. I thought about the conversation I'd had with the old woman the whole drive to Ginger's workplace, laughing and flinching at the idea of old Mr. and Mrs. Frank going at it at two fifty in the morning. The drive there was relatively short, I was only stopped at one of the five stoplights on the way, but the time it took me to actually leave the truck was much longer.

The moment I pulled in to the parking lot, my mind was filled with the thoughts of others.

_Josie and Seth made out on the dock last night -_

_Man, I wish I had a vampire girlfriend -_

_Holy shit! -_

_Oh, my goodness, why did I let Stephen drag me here tonight? -_

_Look, there he is... Eric Northman -_

I slammed on the break in surprise and the old truck screeched to a halt in one of the spaces far away from the entrance. For a moment, I closed my eyes, concentrating hard to put up a mental shield, blocking their thoughts from my mind. The thoughts slowly faded and, once more, it became silent in my head.

Breathing a heavy sigh, I leaned back in my seat. There were sometimes where I was thankful for my gift - a gift that I'd always had, ever since I could remember - and then other times where it was an inconvenience. All I wanted to do was see Ginger, write a bit and then go home. I did not want to hear about _Lucy's vampire boyfriend fucking her mother and then draining her dad_. "Concentrate, Scar," I mumbled, "unless you want these freaks thoughts in your head all night."

My gift hadn't always been a problem like it was until I got to high school. I remembered, there was on day where my History teacher had been dozing off in class and I saw an image flash through his mind, an image of a naked student, one in my class, bent over his desk, begging to be fucked. After reporting him, I transferred. _You're stalling_ , said the voice from before.

Truly, I did not want to go into Fangtasia. From the stories I had heard from Ginger, her bar was a clean business run by a nice man, Eric Northman, and his vampire progeny, Pam. From the stories I'd heard from Merlotte's, a bar and grill in Bon Temps just an hour's drive from Ginger's home in Shreveport, there was not a single good bone in Mr. Northman's, or his progeny's, body. Bon Temps was one of my favorite places to be when I wasn't at Ginger's, it was so open and friendly. I had taken up a part-time job cooking at Merlotte's - every Monday, Wednesday and Thursday from one to nine o'clock PM, and every Saturday from twelve to eight - since the owner, Sam, was such a nice man. _Stalling..._ Finally, I rolled my eyes at the little voice and jumped out. The clock on the dash read 3:17.

There was a long line standing at the door, one I didn't really want to have to wait in. I stood off to the side, leaning against a wall and pulled out my phone, texting Ginger. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed there was someone staring at me. It was a woman, not much older looking than twenty-five, she had long blonde hair that was curled in ringlets and a piercing gaze. She was lean, wearing a black strapless latex dress that barely went down to mid-thigh. _That must be Pam_ , I thought with a grin. Entranced by her gaze, the shield which I had put up in my mind began to crack, bit by bit the thoughts of those around me came back.

_I hope Molly doesn't find out I'm here -_

_Shit. Fuck me, please -_

_He looks like a god -_

_Eric Northman -_

_Fuck me -_

_Blood -_

_V -_

_Please -_

_Blood -_

Not a minute after I sent my last text ( _Ginger... really?_ ) did Ginger come running out the front door in her uniform, skimpy black shorts and a tank top, turning the heads of everyone in line, even the vampire-lady.

"Ginger," said the woman, "what are you doing?"

She looked sheepish as she spoke, "hi, Pam." _So that is Pam._ "I just came out to grab someone." She waved a hand towards me and I moved forward a few steps, stepping up to the velvet red rope, which was blocking me from getting inside.

Pam held out her hand to me and, with a bored expression, drawled, "ID."

Suppressing a roll of my eyes, I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my ID, handing it to her without a complaint. She looked it over once, then twice and then she looked back up at me before looking back down to my ID once more. I was starting to get annoyed, and so were the people in line. I could feel their aggravation rolling off them in waves, I could see it on their faces. They were pissed and jealous. Finally, Pam handed me back my ID and moved the rope, letting me be pulled by Ginger into the bar, however, not before saying, "enjoy your night."

I rolled my eyes then, when I was out of her line of sight. Ginger pulled me aside, into an employee's only room and gave me a loving hug. I hugged her back, less enthusiastically.

"I thought I told you to give me a call." She said when she finally pulled away.

I shrugged, uninterested.

She gave me a look, one that asked, 'why aren't you talking to me?' but didn't say anything else. A silence fell over us and I took that chance to once again put up my shield. Again, there was quiet in my mind.

"What ya bring your laptop for?"

"I thought I could write at the bar," I said with the hint of a smile. "Perhaps get some ideas for that project I have due at the end of the semester."

Suddenly the door was wretched open and Ginger screamed. There stood Pam, an annoyed expression on her hardened features. I rolled my eyes and, with some semblance of a smirk, thought, _maybe I'll like this one._

"Ginger, what are you doing?" she asked, although I could tell she didn't really care.

"Talking to my niece," Ginger replied, once she'd stopped her screaming.

Pam looked to me. "Your niece? This is the girl you've talked so much about?" She raised an eyebrow, looking me over once more. "A college student, right? Studying Creative Writing?"

"And History," said Ginger, smiling.

"History, hmm."

I nodded, fighting back a sneer, and Pam hummed in something that sounded like appreciation. Suddenly, she was gone and then, in the blink of an eye, she'd returned. "Ginger, back to work. You -"

"Scarlett." I interrupted, frowning.

Pam raised her eyebrows again and a smile twitched at the corners of her lips. "Scarlett," she repeated smoothly, her slight accent making the word sound almost sinful. "Come with me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Tell me what you think - what you liked, what you didn't - comments are greatly appreciated! Have a fun time reading!


	3. Chapter 2 - The King of the Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric Northman, a pompous asshole and the co-owner of Fangtasia, has taken an unusual interest in Scarlett.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is currently being edited, so, be ready for some changes. Hopefully, though, the changes are for the better! Sorry for the incredibly long wait, I hope all of this makes up for it!

At Pam's command, Ginger nodded and rushed out, going back to do whatever it was she did here. Pam ushered me out of the small room with the crook of her finger. I scowled at her beautiful face. "You'd better be careful," she said teasingly, "if you keep making that face, it might freeze that way. And I would hate to see a pretty face ruined." Her last words where ghosted against my face as she leaned towards me to close the employee room door. My angry expression dropped and a hot blush crept up the back of my neck, setting my face aflame. "You're cute when you blush." She laughed as I frowned once more. "C'mon," said Pam, reaching for my hand. I recoiled as if I'd touched a hot stove top, pulling my hand in to my chest. "Alright then, don't get lost."

She began to move, gracefully weaving her way in between the crowds of vampires and humans alike, and I followed her, much less gracefully. I ignored the prying eyes that watched me, looking straight at the back of Pam's head, suppressing the want to squirm under their gaze. We came to a stage, and only when she moved did I see what was on it. Sat in a throne-like chair was a very tall man, he had short cut blonde hair and bright blue eyes and pale, flawless skin. It made my own skin crawl. Eric Northman. I couldn't deny he was attractive, but suddenly all the stories I had heard popped back into memory.

"Here she is," Pam spoke, a hand motioning towards me. "Ginger's niece, Scarlett.

Eric looked down at me from his position on stage and suddenly the whole club behind me faded away. I could feel anger begin to burn in my stomach at his stony expression and his pompous air. That man clearly thought he was above everyone surrounding him. He smiled at my obviously annoyed expression and, as Pam had, crooked a finger towards me. Pam grabbed my arm tightly and the sounds of the club came flowing back to me. I hissed as she towed me up onto the stage behind her. For a second, I thought about resisting, but decided against it feeling the tight grip she had on me. I would rather like to have my arm by the end of the night. She moved me to stand directly in front of Eric, her cold body behind me making my shoulders tense. The man before looked none the bit interested in the happenings in his bar, his steely eyes trained on me.

"You are related to Ginger?" he asked, his voice gravely and yet, at the same time, strangely smooth as it flowed into my ears.

I stood tall, narrowing my eyes at him. "I am, why?"

He chuckled under his breath, leaned his head on his hand, looked me up and down. I felt very naked suddenly, I could feel my anger building higher. He didn't answer my question, instead he told me to, and not in the least bit polite way, to sit.

"Why?"

"I'd like to get to know the only relative of my favorite human staff member. Perhaps I'd learn more about her." It was quite clear to me he was lying. Whatever his motive, him wanting me to sit had nothing to do with his wanting to get to know my aunt. For some reason he wanted me near. _Dammit, if only I could read vampires as well,_ I thought.

"No, you don't, you already know everything you need to know." His eyes hardened as he looked at me. The ice in his stare made my spine twitch, still, I continued to stare him down. "She's ditsy, easily manipulated and not as bright as the average human." I could see the twitch of his lips as I both insulted my aunt and talked back to him. For some reason, he was getting a sick satisfaction out of watching me fight him. Bastard. "But," he raised his eyebrows, as if surprised by my response, "if it'll keep her out of trouble, I'll sit."

A full smile broke out across his face - it wasn't the friendliest or most inviting sight I had ever seen. With a large hand, he motioned towards the little chair on his left. I moved to sit in the small seat at Eric's side, pulling my computer bag into my lap. Eric spoke again with curiosity in his voice.

"Where are you from, Scarlett. You're not from here." It was not a question. It was as if he knew. His eyes narrowed at me once more as he observed me.

With a quiet snort, I pulled my laptop from its bag. "And how can you tell that?" I asked, flinching at the brightness as I opened the lid. I turned the screen light down, gazing out at the crowds of people before me.

"You smell different than these..." He paused for a moment, looking for the right word. "Hicks. When you've lived here all your life, it leaves a scent mark that is hard to miss."

That puzzled me. I smelled different? Could they really smell where a person was from? It took a moment for me to answer, as I was still processing what he had said. I smelled different.

"Florida," I finally answered. He raised his brow, as if he knew there was more and I sighed, "and for a while I lived in Virginia and New York, as well as Kansas, for two years."

He looked impressed at my list of homes, but perhaps he was just grinning because of my annoyance. I brushed off his look of approval, pushing away the strange feeling of pride that formed, warm and fuzzy, in my stomach. Instead, I focused my attention on the anger that was still brewing in me. Eric continued to watch me, looking interested, as I opened a new Word document and began to type. Pam, however, who was hanging around, looked bored. She spoke, quiet lazily, to Eric in a foreign language. I ignored their conversation, typing away about what I saw at Fangtasia, looking up and observing the bar activities. Vampires, male and female, danced on strategically placed platforms around the open room; in the middle of them all was a large dance floor, occupied by both humans and vampires dancing as if they were having sex. It was raunchy and disgusting and yet, at the same time, I was intrigued. Why would they dance like this? Is this their preferred style of dance?

My attention was drawn from the crowd as Eric once again began to talk, this time, to me.

"Have you ever been out of the country?" He asked, his hands folded, very gentleman like, in his lap.

"No," I replied. "I have wanted to, however."

He raised an eyebrow, exchanging a look with Pam, who looked a little less bored than she had a moment ago. "Really? To where, may I ask."

"You can ask," I responded, continuing my writing. "The question is whether or not I will answer."

He laughed. Something that shocked me so that my fingers froze over the keyboard. His laugh was not something I expected; it was a hardy laugh, it was... surprisingly genuine. Pam smirked, crossing her arms and turning away, muttering something in that same foreign language. Eric suddenly stopped laughing, turning back to Pam with a suddenly serious face.

"Pam!" He exclaimed. She turned to him, her lips in a pout. " _Det är nog_!" She grumbled something in that same language, but cut herself short when she caught Eric's gaze once again. " _Lämna oss_." I didn't understand what he said but soon, with another mumble of something that had Eric growling, Pam turned and left, turning down a hallway and disappearing. "I apologize for Pam, she is... well, she is many things..."

"What was that language you were speaking?" I couldn't help but ask. Mentally, I scolded myself for showing any interest in the man, but my curiosity always seemed to get the better of me. It sounded almost familiar...

"Swedish." He replied curtly. "Now, back to my question. Where have you wanted to travel?"

He sat patiently, waiting for my answer. I didn't want to answer. I already thought he knew too much about me simply by knowing where I had lived. After a long moment of feeling his gaze on me, I sighed, but I didn't look at him, focusing on my writing.

"London, Paris, Rome, Dublin, Berlin, New Zealand."

"New Zealand?" he questioned.

"Lord of the Rings," I stated simply, feeling another hot blush creep up on me. It wasn't as if I cared for the opinion of the man beside me, so why, then, was I so suddenly embarrassed?

He laughed once more and I found that I was beginning to enjoy that sound. "Lord of the Rings, huh? Tolkien fan?" I nodded, my fingers flying over my keyboard in attempt to distract myself. "Books or movies?"

"I like them both," I spoke, "however, I prefer the books. I always prefer the books."

He was silent for a moment, and I saw him nod, then he asked me a new question. "Why do you want to visit those places?"

"Why do you want to know so much about me?" I stopped writing, turning my head to look at him. "I'm not of any use to you, I can assure you that."

He paused, thinking over something before he said, "you are... different."

"Meaning what? Because I'm not from here I'm special? Because I actually have dreams and ambitions?" With a scoff, I looked back to the dim screen of my computer. Eric stayed silent beside me. That was a moment where I wished that my abilities worked on vampires. I was curious to know what he was thinking and yet, at the same time, I didn't care. But another part of me knew that wasn't true. I did care. I always care, I just say I don't and live with the consequences.

He was silent for a few moments more, till something caught his attention. I heard a soft noise not a moment later and without any warning he was up and gone. The words "excuse me" only a drift on the wind as he went back to where Pam had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Tell me what you think - what you liked, what you didn't - comments are greatly appreciated! Have a fun time reading!
> 
> Also, in case anyone wanted to know exactly what Eric was saying to Pam in Swedish, here is the translation:  
> Det är nog! - That is enough!  
> Lämna oss. - Leave us.


	4. Chapter 3 - On The House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A free beer, a drunkard and two angry vampires.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is currently being edited, so, be ready for some changes. Hopefully, though, the changes are for the better! Sorry for the incredibly long wait, I hope all of this makes up for it!

With Eric gone I took that opportunity to leave the stage. I slipped my laptop back in its bag and hopped down to the floor, moving through the sweaty mass of people to the bar, which was considerably less crowded than the dancefloor. The man behind the counter was a thick man around the waist, with a large head and torso and short dark hair. He slid a beer to me as I sat down. I began to protest but he cut me off.

"On the house," he said. "It's from your aunt."

I thanked him with a thin-lipped smile, taking sip after sip of the bitter liquid as I typed away, observing the dark environment around me, and soon the beer was gone. That was enough for me. I had never been good at holding alcohol, one was just enough, two would've been pushing it. After a moment more of writing, I slid my computer back in its case and myself off the bar stool and weaved my way once more through the crowd until being stopped by a very large, broad-shouldered man. He was at least 6'5", which was a considerable amount taller than my 5'4". He was drunk. I could see it in the swaying of his body, I could hear the slurring of his thoughts.

"Hey, baby," he slurred. "Wanna come home with me tonight?"

My nose wrinkled in disgust at the smell of him - he smelled like a gutter rat was drowned in alcohol - though I tried to smile at the man, hoping to move around him. "No, thank you," I said in the politest tone I could manage. I had slipped by behind a passing fangbanger, but the man had turned and grabbed hold of my arm. I gaped at him, trying to pry my arm from his grip, but he was much stronger than I was.

"That wasn't a question," he huffed, even from where he was stood I could smell the alcohol on his breath - a mixture of pungent sweetness and bitter sour. It made me turn my nose up in disgust. "You're comin' home with me, baby. Whether ya like it or not."

Suddenly the man was flying across the room, smashing into other customers. My muscles tensed as I watched the man slowly recover from his unexpected flight. He looked around, disoriented and drunk, to find whoever had assaulted him. It was the bartender. When the man laid eyes on him, he turned an angry shade of red.

"You fucking fanger!" He spat and suddenly everything stopped. The thumping music turned off, the dancing sex stopped, the pole dancers stopped, everyone turned and looked at this one man standing opposite a vampire who was protecting a measly human.

"I believe the lady said no." He spoke calmly. "Isn't that right?"

I nodded silently from behind the bartender. The man looked to be getting redder by the second. His hands balled up into fists, his lips curled back in a snarl and he shook with every ragged breath. There was a noise near the back, where Eric and Pam had disappeared to, then unintelligible yelling and suddenly, Eric was by the bartender's side.

"Chow," spoke Eric. "What seems to be the problem?" It was then I noticed that both men had their fangs extended, their eyes trained on the man.

"This redneck would not leave the nice lady alone," Chow explained.

Eric snuck a glance back at me. Something flashed in his eyes, though I didn't know what. I wasn't sure if I wanted to know, but there was something there. He looked back to the man when done assessing me. He exchanged a look with Chow and then proceeded to say, "well, that's not acceptable." An evil sort smile passed over both their faces and before I could blink, Chow had the man on the bar counter, snarling at him like a wild animal. Someone screamed. A quick look told me it was Ginger.

"You're going to apologize to the nice lady," hissed Chow.

"I-I-I-I'm s-s-sorr-r-r-ry!" The man sniveled. I felt this sick feeling of satisfaction rise in me at his whimpered apology.

"Good, now, you're going to leave and you're never going to come back."

Eric took a step towards them, hissing as he clicked his teeth together. "Because, if you do, I will not hesitate to rip your throat out and then proceed to drain you dry."

The man cried out an apology, thrashing against Chow's hold. He held him there a second longer and then he was out the door. I heard him yell, "and stay out!" Before Chow was back, a satisfied look on his face. Eric gave a nod in his direction and Chow went back to his place at the bar.

"Thank you," I managed as the heavy music began again, the bass once more pumping through the floor. Chow shot me a fanged smile, pouring a fangbanger a glass of red wine. "Thank you too, I guess," I said quietly to Eric. He was back in front of me, fangs extended, eyes lit up with something unreadable.

"No thanks necessary. I will not have such pigheaded behavior going on in my bar. Besides, I would like for you to return." That statement surprised me. He wanted me to come back?

"Why?"

"We never finished our conversation. Come back tomorrow," and just like that, he was gone again. I assumed he went back to wherever Pam was.

Before I had a chance to really process what Eric had said I was being tackled by Ginger in a bear hug. She was mumbling all sorts of unintelligent things into my ear, things I couldn't really make out. Her thoughts however, we perfectly clear to me.

_What did that man want? Oh, my Lord, is she okay? What was she talking to Eric about? What does Eric want with my sweet niece? Oh, dear Lord, Jesus and God above keep my baby safe!_

I smiled in amusement and hugged her back, calming her nerves. When she felt fully reassured that I was fine and not in any danger she let me go, going back to her business, flitting around the bar. Finally, I made my way to the door. I'd nearly made it to when a cold feeling slithered up my spine, wrapping itself around me, pulling me to stand straighter. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and slowly I turned. My eyes scanned the mass of grinding bodies to find whatever it was that was making me feel so uneasy. Eventually, my eyes caught hold on the dark figure of a man. He was young, about twenty-one or so, leaning against the far corner of the bar, his eyes dark eyes trained on me. I opened my mind for a moment, trained my eyes back on him and... nothing. He was a vampire. For a moment, I wondered why he was staring at me. I brushed the nagging thought aside - it was likely he was just curious, after all, the owner of the bar did defend me, and I was sure that was not something he did every night - and shrugged off the overwhelming feeling of cold and left the bar. _That was enough drama for one night,_ I thought, my face flushing as the heavy Louisiana night heat washed over me.

Checking my watch on the way back to my car I realized I'd only spent roughly an hour in that bar and yet so much had happened. With a glance up to the stars, I thanked whatever god was there that my life would not always be like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Tell me what you think - what you liked, what you didn't - comments are greatly appreciated! Have a fun time reading!


	5. Chapter 4 - Stupid Sneaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett comes home to see her door wide open and prepares for the worst. What she finds, however, is anything but that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is currently being edited, so, be ready for some changes. Hopefully, though, the changes are for the better! Sorry for the incredibly long wait, I hope all of this makes up for it!

The drive home was a much longer affair than the drive over, it seemed. There were so many thoughts I had swirling around in my head and, for once, they were all my own. Eric Northman was the most pressing one at this moment. As I sat at the traffic light, the third one from Ginger's home, I couldn't help but have my mind wander towards the strange man. As much as I hated to admit it, I was curious of him. I wanted to know him, where he came from, what his story was, how he became who he was today. The light turned green and I began to drive down the road once again. Eric... so strange. His companion, Pam... even stranger. Chow had been the only really kind one this evening, and even his attention bordered strange. Vampires were just so... strange. The lot of them. Most of the time I wished they didn't exist, or at least, were not involved in my life. At least then I would still have my parents.

My mind began to wander back to that night, three years ago, right after my twentieth birthday. We were driving home - well, my father was driving, my mother was riding in the passenger's seat and I was sat behind them, buckled tightly into my seat. It began to rain suddenly, but we didn't mind, the drive was happy. We talked and laughed and were singing along to the music on the radio and then we saw a black blob ahead. The black blob, as we approached, took the form of a person. My dad slammed on the breaks and the car screeched to a halt, but not before hitting whoever it was standing in the middle of the road, sending him flying. In concern, both my parents exited the vehicle. I heard them ask in concern if the person was okay, then they both screamed - it was a heart-stopping sound, the kind you hear that paralyzes you. There was a wet sort of tearing sound and then frenzied laughs. Without a second thought I scrambled into the front seat, fear flying through every nerve. I didn't even shut the door before I began to speed down the road.

The guilt and sadness and anger hit me like a train the next morning when their faces showed up on the news with a seemingly preposterous story of what happened. Vampires 'came out of the coffin' the very next year. I couldn't help but hold a grudge against them. All of them. I moved in with Ginger the next month, swearing every day that I'd move out the next. It never happened, and though I considered Ginger's home a temporary residence, the thought still remained that I was likely to stay there forever.

I went on driving, blinking back the tears as I sat, stopped, at the stop sign just before Ginger's house. Her home now was only a minute away, yet that minute seemed to drag on. When I finally reached home and pulled up in the driveway and stopped the car, a similar chill to the one I'd felt at Fangtasia swept over me. It was more of a bad feeling than anything else. Ignoring the voice in the back of my mind - the one that was now telling me to run away, head back to Fangtasia, _you were safe there_ \- I grabbed my things and hopped out of the vehicle, making my way up to the door. Ginger's rusty keys clinked together as I pulled them from my pocket. I sifted through the keys, muttering a curse at the sheer number of them that my aunt had, as a gust of wind blew by. The front door creaked, swinging open just bit, a beam of moonlight lighting up the beaten floor. I paused. The cold feeling once again gripped my insides. I could've sworn I had locked it on my way out...

The voice in the back of my head began to scream - _run! Go back to Fangtasia!_ With a grimace, I blocked out the noise. There was no way I was going back there tonight.

I pushed the door the rest of the way open, the creaking noise echoing loudly in the night. The moonlight illuminated the rough, wooden floor and the various amounts of clutter that my aunt could never bear to part with. Forsaking my computer bag at the front door, I stepped inside, grabbing the baseball bat from beside the front door for some semblance of protection. Quiet as a mouse, I crept into the kitchen. It was empty. I checked the living room next. Empty. Downstairs bathroom. Clear. Slowly, careful to avoid the creakiest of spots, I made my way up the stairs. Ginger's room. Clear. My room. Not a sign of life save for what I'd already done before leaving. Upstairs bathroom, extra guest room. All good.

My heart stuttered as I heard a rustling in the next room over. The study. _Shit_ , I thought, _I hate that place_. It wasn't as much of a study as much as it was weird central; Ginger kept all her vampire and supernatural in there. I tiptoed across the floor, my back against the wall, till I came to the door. The rustling inside was now accompanied by hushed, frenzied voices. Something inside the room fell over 'and one of the people hissed out, " _shit_." I recognized that voice, I realized suddenly. In a burst of anger, I kicked the door in. The two inside the room screamed, one of them fell to the floor with an " _oomph"_ , the other jumped onto Ginger's desk shrieking like a scared kitten. I scowled at the sight of the Milton twins; Thomas and Jerry, they were seventeen years old and possibly two of the stupidest boys on the face of the planet.

With wide eyes, they looked at me, dropping what they held - for Thomas, it was a two-year-old bottle of Tru Blood; for Jerry, a bloody, silver stake - and grinning sheepishly.

"Hi, Miss Tucker," said Thomas from his place on the floor.

"How ya doin'?" Asked Jerry, climbing down off Ginger"s desk.

With a sigh, I stepped out of the doorway, ushering them both out with a flick of my bat. They left the room, heads hung low, coming to stand with me in the hall.

"What the hell were you two doing?" I huffed, slamming the door shut.

"We was just lookin'," said Thomas.

"We like your aunt's stuff!" Jerry exclaimed.

"You were so lucky it was me that came home first and not Ginger. You remember what happened last time she found you going through her things?" Both boys paled at the memory. "Thomas, she almost shot you! And Jerry, she _did_ shoot you! Right through the fucking leg!" The elder of the two rubbed as his thigh, where I had no doubt there was a circular shaped scar. "Your mama almost lost everything because you stupid fucks couldn't keep your nose out of my aunt's business!" 

"But she didn't," said Thomas softly.

"Not the point, you moron," hissed his brother, smacking him over the head.

"I am not a moron!"

"You are too!"

"Boys!" They looked back to me, their pale cheeks flushing red. "Stop with the arguing. You just can't break into people's home to look at their things - cool or otherwise. How many times have I told you boys, breaking and entering is a crime?"

"But it was unlocked when we got here!" They both insisted.

"No, it was n-"

"Yeah, it was," said Thomas.

"The door was wide open," said Jerry.

"We figured you'd only gone out back for a minute."

Their eyes were shinning with innocence and, while they were quite stupid, I knew that neither of them prided themselves on being a liar. "Boys," I said quietly, swallowing the quickly forming lump in my throat, "were there any other doors open when you came in?"

Jerry shrugged, "the basement door is all."

"Why?" Thomas asked.

I suppressed a shiver, attempting to force the tense muscles in my back to relax - it wasn't working, with each breath I gave they coiled tighter. My grip on the bat turned white-knuckled, my fingers twitching as another breeze of cool night air rushed through the hall.  

"Somethin' wrong, Miss Tucker?" They asked.

I nodded, "something is very wrong, boys. Get out. Now."

They didn't need to be told twice, only a second later and they'd bolted down the stairs. I waited to hear the tell-tale sign of their exit, the sound of my front door slamming shut, but it never came. Instead, I heard their confused and worried cries of "it's locked!" and "damn! It won't fucking open!"

I could hear them struggling with the lock, trying to open the door. Quickly, I went down the stairs after them. The two were bickering, shoving against each other, fighting over how to unlock the door. There was no way they'd get out by doing that. From where I stood at the bottom of the stair case, the moon now barely shinning in through the dingy windows, I could only see outlines. In the darkness of the kitchen there stood a figure, a figure that wasn't supposed to be there. In the blink of an eye it was gone and I felt panic resurface. Shit.

The twins screamed, one flying to land on the couch, the other upside down in the arm chair. Too stunned to move, I held my breath, waiting. In the next second the bat was ripped from my hand, an arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me back into a hard body. A cool hand covered my mouth as I shrieked, the chest pressed against my back rumbling with deep laughter. I could feel my heart beat jump as a head covered in dark hair leaned down and by my ear. They breathed out, their breath almost sickeningly sweet, and then in before they whispered, "I won."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Tell me what you think - what you liked, what you didn't - comments are greatly appreciated! Have a fun time reading!


	6. Chapter 5 - Unwelcomed Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dimitri was only playing a joke, but the gift left in the basement was no laughing matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is currently being edited, so, be ready for some changes. Hopefully, though, the changes are for the better! Sorry for the incredibly long wait, I hope all of this makes up for it!

All my fear and panic flew from me to be replaced by a burning anger. I growled, elbowing the hard body behind me. "You bastard!" I screamed into his hand, ignoring the rumbling of his chest behind me. "You motherfucking asshole!"

One of the Milton boys quickly found the light switch, after orienting himself after his unexpected flight, and flicked it on. The boys' faces represented my exact feelings in that moment. Thomas looked scared shitless, but there was a look of relief that cross his face when he saw who it was that was behind all this; Jerry, in contrast, looked like he was about ready to stake the one holding me.

"Jesus H. Christ, D!" shouted Jerry, moving to help Thomas sit upright in the armchair. "You don't just fucking do that, man!"

"Sorry," laughed Dimitri, letting his hold on me go as I licked his palm. "Gross, Scar." He wiped his hand on his jeans and looked back to the twins. "I didn't know you two would be here. I was getting back at Scar." A well-muscled arm suddenly wrapped around my waist, pulling me tightly into Dimitri's side. Eyes twinkling with mischief, he leaned his face closer to mine, so that we were nose-to-nose. His sweet breath fanned across my face, making me flush red. "Bitch made a bet and lost."

"I won that bet, you ass!" I pouted, trying to pry his arm from around my waist. Dimitri just laughed, planting a cold kiss to my temple before he finally let me go. With a roll of my eyes, I went to help Jerry with Thomas - who was still quite stunned and stiff. "And that wasn't nice! I could've staked you!"

Dimitri followed closely behind me, watching the boys from over my shoulder. "No, you couldn't've." He said plainly. "I would've bitten you first."

My face reddened a great deal more at the idea of Dimitri Volkov, one of my closest friends despite his unfortunate condition, biting me in any way, shape or form. He, however, found it quite amusing. He made a comment about how cute I was when I was embarrassed, only to be smacked over the head by Jerry.

"You son of a bitch!" Jerry exclaimed. "I oughta stake you like my momma suggests!"

"But you won't," Dimitri replied, a knowing smile on his face.

Jerry grumbled in defeat, rubbing his brother's shoulder, wrapping an arm protectively around him. "Well, maybe not this time."

Dimitri let out a laugh, following me into the kitchen as I went to grab Thomas a glass of water. He leaned against the counter, watching me. I could see the sparkle in his eye at our obvious annoyance of him. He liked this sort of thing, playing the mischief maker. I always kept telling him it was going to get him killed one night, but of course he never listened to me.

It was entirely silent in the house, except for the sound of running water and Jerry and Thomas's thoughts flashing through my head. Both of them were upset with Dimitri, but I could see them starting to do what they did best - second best only to breaking and entering and snooping. Forgive and forget.

"That wasn't nice," I finally said, turning off the faucet. The glass of water for Thomas was filled to the brim, through it I saw a distorted image Dimitri's smiling face.

He sighed, leaning his elbows on the island counter. "I know, but I couldn't resist."

"Why did you think this would be even remotely funny?"

"I didn't know they'd be here!"

"But I would be!"

"Oh, c'mon, Scar -"

"How did you even get in?"

He paused, looking from me and out into the living room. I raised a brow and he sucked in an unnecessary breath. "The door was unlocked," he said with a shrug, "I assumed you left it open."

There was something about the way his eyes glanced towards the basement that said otherwise. I knew I had locked the door on my way out. What I didn't know was who - or what - was the one to open it before I'd gotten back. I took the glass of water to Thomas, who, with some help from his brother, quickly downed the glass. Dimitri looked at me, raising a brow as I nodded my head in the direction of the basement. He climbed down first, helping me down the long ladder. It was exactly as it was when Ginger had locked it up last month.

The basement was essentially what I called a vampire cubby. It was made of titanium and far too cold, it was where she would let her lovers come and rest before I made her stop. There was an open coffin collect cobwebs in the far corner, but that had always been there. A dresser sat by the back wall, a standing mirror beside it. It was then I turned and asked Dimitri what was on my mind.

"What did you find down here?"

He pointed to a something on the dresser, something I didn't notice two seconds ago. There was a small box on the corner, it was wrapped in blue wrapping paper, a black bow on top of it. A white envelope sat next to it, in beautiful, curly manuscript was written my name. I set aside the box for a moment and lifted my fingers to the envelope. The paper was old, it had an almost parchment-like feel to it, and smelled like flowers. Gently, I pulled it open - the wax seal on the front popping off without much fuss - letting it drop to the floor as I revealed what was inside. On a regular sheet of white printer paper, in that same beautiful handwriting was a note written to me.

 

Scarlett, Hello, love. Did you miss me? You probably don't even remember me, pity. I have no doubt you will come running to me the moment you do see me. It will be a reunion like no other, that I swear. I have longed for you for too long, my sweet, now that I know where you are I am desperate to come and see you. I do hope you remember me, it would make me so sad to find you have no memory of our time together. I hope you enjoy your gift, _mon petit ange_. I cannot wait until we are together again.

F.C.

 

A nauseating feeling lurched in my gut, I felt bile rising up my throat. A new wave of panic once again began to overtake me. The note slipped out of my now shaking hands, drifting to the floor like a feather.

_Now that I know where you are... I cannot wait until we are together again... F.C...._

I hadn't even the faintest idea of who 'F.C.' could be or how he knew me, but he did, and he knew where I lived. And he was coming for me. Fear burned through me, coiling like a snake in the pit of my stomach as I reached my hand towards the little box wrapped in blue. First, I took off the bow, placing it carefully on the dresser. Secondly, I tore off the wrapping paper, letting it fall to the floor in a crumbled ball. Left then was just a little cream box. I lifted the top slowly, what I saw inside made my blood curdle.

"Scarlett?" I heard Dimitri say though the sound was muffled, as if I was hearing it through a veil of water. "Scar, you alright?"

I didn't answer, my eyes transfixed on the _thing_ in the box. It wasn't a gift, truly it wasn't. Staring up at me, in the comfort of that little box, was a picture I thought I'd never see again. In fact, I knew I would never see it again. It was a photo taken the night my parents died. A picture taken by a stranger of my mother, my father and me, smiling and happy as we stood in front of the carousel on the pier. It was the first - and last - photo my Polaroid camera ever took. My father had stolen it from me with a childish grin and stuck it in his wallet "for safe keeping,"� he'd said. And that's where it had been, in his wallet in his back pocket, when he was torn to pieces by the vampires who'd stopped us.

It was exactly as I remembered it... except for the blood around its edges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Tell me what you think - what you liked, what you didn't - comments are greatly appreciated! Have a fun time reading!
> 
> If you want to know what the French words are in here, here is the translation:  
> mon petit ange - my little angel


	7. Chapter 6 - Back to Normal (Or So I Thought)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a strangely peaceful dream, things seem to be going back to normal. But, on that seemingly normal day something very abnormal - a quiet heartbreaking - happens to the little town of Bon Temps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is currently being edited, so, be ready for some changes. Hopefully, though, the changes are for the better! Sorry for the incredibly long wait, I hope all of this makes up for it!

Dimitri left me for a moment, I felt the cool breeze at the rush of his absence, then I heard above me the sound of footsteps and the shutting of a door. The Milton twins and their loud, obnoxious thoughts were gone. Dimitri came soon after. He quickly he helped me up the ladder and then carried me gently in his arms to my room. Normally, I would've minded him being there, but at the time I was in too much of a state of shock to give a damn. He took the picture gingerly from my shaking hand, hissing as he looked at it. "C'mon, Scar," he said softly, tucking warmly into bed. I laid there for the longest time, staring blankly at the ceiling, thinking of the picture, the note, my family. All the while, Dimitri sat beside me, singing to me in his native language a song I didn't know - or maybe I did, I just didn't recognize it.

Somewhere along the way - I don't know when - I fell asleep.

***

A fire crackled in the hearth, the glow a pleasant warmth on my cold face. I warmed my hands over the dancing flames, listening to the gentle popping of the wood and the beautiful French melody playing somewhere behind me. Outside the window just to the left of the fireplace, I could see the snowflakes were still falling, collecting on the window sill. The sight brought a smile to my face. It was nice to see something so beautiful after something so tragic had happened.

A smooth voice spoke behind me, " _tout-petit_. It is time for bed."

I turned my head, looking towards the shadowy doorway where the figure who spoke was standing. "But I don't want to," I said, "I'm not tired."

"You must, _tout-petit_. We do not want to catch a cold, do you?"

I frowned at the figure, watching as whoever it was crossed their arms. "No," I said finally.

"Then you must go to bed."

"But -"

" _Pas plus d'excuses. Il est temps pour vous d'aller au lit_."

I rolled my eyes at the figure, heaving a sigh as I finally conceded. " _Amende_ ," I rose from my place in front of the fire, looking longingly after the dancing flames as I crossed away towards a long, dark hallway. " _Bonsoir_ ," I called over my shoulder.

The dark figure had not moved, they continued to stand in the shadows of the doorway, watching me.

" _Bonsoir, tout-petit."_

***

A peaceful warmth upon my face stirred me awake. The bright, yellow sun was shining down on me through my one window and Dimitri was gone.

There was another note, this one written on a clearly used napkin, left beside my head on the pillow.

 

Scar, I left the picture in your chest. I'm sorry I had to go but... I kinda wanna live to be 400. Hope you feel better when you wake up.

D

 

I crumbled the napkin in my fist, scowling down at the trunk at the end of my bed. The image of the bloody picture flashed in my mind. _We'd been having such a great day... The last ride we went on was that carousel..._

"Stop it, Scar," I sighed, throwing the balled-up note at the wastebasket by my door - it missed and landed a few feet in front of it. "You've gotta get out of bed." I looked at my clock and read the glowing numbers: 8:15. "Damn, you really gotta get out of bed." I climbed out slowly from underneath the warmth of my covers, padding across the cold floor to the door of my bedroom. "Ginger?" I called into the hall. No response. The house was quiet. I guess Ginger was working the day shift today as well.

 _Why doesn't she just stop working for those vamps?_ I thought, making my way into the kitchen to cook myself some breakfast. The only things I found there were spoiled milk, a carton of rotten eggs and a week-old case of Tru Blood. An annoyed growl rumbled in my chest at the realization that I would actually need to go out today, before work. "Dammit, Ginger," I grumbled, grabbing the keys to her truck and my bag from the floor - Dimitri must've brought it in last night. I paused a moment before leaving, looking myself over and thinking once about changing. However, considering I had on my clothes from last night, which were still clean from the smell of them, I decided to hell with that.

While the warmth coming in through my window was quite peaceful, outside the sun was sweltering. "Damn Louisiana weather," I hissed. I could feel sweat quickly forming on my brow and my arms, sticking to the leather of my jacket. With some difficulty, I slipped it off, slinging it over my shoulder. A stinging burn-like feeling ran up my arm when I touched the hot metal Ginger's truck door. I tossed my jacket aside in the passenger's seat before climbing up into the cab, and I quickly realized that inside the vehicle was no better than outside. The temperature was at least five degrees hotter, the leather seats burned me even through my jeans, and when I went to buckle, I mistakenly touched the metal clip. "Bitch!" After fumbling with the hot keys, I managed to finally stick right one in the ignition. The vehicle roared to life and I soon pulled out of the driveway and onto the road.

The drive to the store was short and sweet - there was no traffic, no screaming twins or old women (and certainly no vampire prankster), I was left alone with just the soft radio and my thoughts for company. I thought about last night, at Fangtasia, how I'd been protected from some hillbilly by not one, but two intimidating vampires. I thought about coming home to find the twins snooping. I thought about Dimitri and his "practical joke" and the photo from my birthday with the bloody edges. Then I thought about my dream. It was the only one, in quite a long time, that I had where I didn't end up dying at the end. In my mind's eye, I looked over the shadowed figure, leaning casually in the doorway; I replayed his sweet voice and soft words over in my head. It surprised me that I understood what he'd said - " _no more excuses. It is time for you to go to bed,_ " ... " _Good night, little one,"_   - and that I had responded in kind - " _Fine. Good night."_

But, then again, there was something familiar about that scene. It wasn't like it was a dream, but more like a memory... I shook the thought away, turning up the music on the radio to drown out my thoughts.

When I arrived at the store, the parking lot was empty, save for the employees' cars that sat in the front of the lot. I grabbed my bag, slinging it grudgingly over my shoulder, before hopping back out into the blistering heat. It was as if the whole of Shreveport was having a meltdown, for the inside of the grocery store was just as hot as it was outside. At the front checkout line there was a tired looking young woman, whose name I never bothered learning. She was fanning herself with a magazine.

"What happened to the AC?" I asked, grabbing a basket from their place by the front door.

"Broken," she replied, boredom obvious in her tone.

"Alright..." I whispered, rolling my eyes at her obvious attitude. _It's not like you're the only one who's miserable, sweetheart._

It didn't take me long to get all the things I'd needed for breakfast; all the aisles were quite compact. My basket was near full when I got back to the checkout line - a carton of one-dozen eggs, grade A; a pound of butter; pancake mix; two loaves of bread; bananas; oranges; grapes; two 2-liter water bottles. Unfortunately, the only cashier there was the woman from when I first walked in. She was not very enthusiastic about scanning my items.

"That'll be $59.73," she drawled, fanning herself, chewing loudly on the piece of gum in her mouth.

_Dammit, can't you just pay and leave already? Dumb bitch, I hate this stupid fucking job and this stupid fucking town._

I hid a smile at her thoughts, something about them rang true for me as well as her. I'd never liked this town, maybe even hated it, perhaps more than she did. I hated the townsfolk - save for a few decent people - I hated the vampires, and I hated the loneliness of living in the middle of nowhere. Without exchanging a word, I paid the girl her money, grabbed my things and left. The parking lot was no less empty as when I got there, although one car did pull in at precisely the time I was leaving. Though it made sense why no one was here, it was an early Monday morning, 9:00 AM. The kids were in school, parents who didn't work were sleeping in and everyone else was working. The roads were as barren as I'd ever seen them, which didn't bother me at all.

I was nearly home when, from the passenger's seat, inside my bag, my phone began to ring. Some preppy, bubbly music began to play, muffled by the fabric of my bag. Annoyed, I pulled off to the side of the road, rummaging through my bag till I found the infernal device. Ginger's face flashed on the screen and I suppressed a groan as I answered.

"Ginger," I sighed, "It is 9:20 in the morning. What do you need?"

"Who is this?" A strange voice came over the speaker, one I didn't recognize.

"Who is this?" I shot back.

"Jason."

"How did you get this phone, Jason?

"I found it, outside Fangtasia this morning."

 _Dammit, Ginger, you lost your fucking phone again._ I groaned into the speaker. _Fucking hell, Ginger..._ The guy, Jason, asked if I was alright.

"Yeah, I'm fine, my aunt just lost her fucking phone. Again!"

"Oh! Sorry," he said, "I can send it back to you, if ya want."

I shook my head (and I had the afterthought that that was stupid since he couldn't see me). "No, I'll... are you in the Shreveport area?"

"Bon Temps. Why?" He answered.

"You know Merlotte's? It's a bar and grill in Bon Temps," I began.

He chuckled on the other end, "yeah, I know what it is."

"Well, anyway," I continued with a roll of my eyes. "I work there, my shift starts at 12:00, but I'll be busy with the lunch rush so you can drop off the phone to me at one."

"Wait! You work at Merlotte's?" He questioned. "How come I ain't never seen you?"

"I'm a cook, and I'm not fond of conversation," I sighed. "Just ask for Red, Sam'll know who you're talking about."

"Alright." It was quiet on the other end for a moment. "See ya at one."

With that I hung up. _Dammit, Ginger,_ I thought as I once again began driving down the road. Ginger was always losing something, whether it be her phone, wallet, money, job. The job she had at Fangtasia was the only one I'd seen her keep for more than a month, and it was the one I least approved of. Thinking of Fangtasia brought back thoughts of Eric's and mine conversation. He wanted me to come back. For a while, I mulled over that thought; I rolled down the windows when the heat inside the vehicle became too much to bear. Did I want to go back? A part of me said no - he's a vampire, a blood-thirsty monster, he's _dangerous_. There was another part of me, however, that said yes. I did. It was more curiosity than anything else, I was curious to know what he wanted to know of me - yet, at the same time, I was afraid of what he'd do with the information - and I still wanted to learn more about him. But, why did he want to talk to me to begin with? What made me so special?

I pulled into the driveway not a moment after the question reached my mind. _Guess I'll find out tonight_. With a sigh, I jumped out of the truck, grabbing my bags of groceries and my phone and the keys. I left my laptop in the car, considering that in less than two hours I'd be on my way over to Merlotte's for the lunch shift. Inside the house was cool, a welcomed chill running up my spine at the sudden temperature change. _At least she paid the damn bills this month_ , I thought, dropping my things on the island counter in the kitchen. After I'd finished unpacking my groceries, I went to make myself some breakfast; out of the carton of eggs I grabbed two, breaking them over the pan, they fell with a plop onto the melting butter. I broke the yolk, pushing around the uncooked eggs, mixing the two parts. I stood there for a while, watching them sizzle, flipping and folding the eggs every now and then. When I deemed then done I sprinkled what was left of the salt and pepper Ginger had about onto my breakfast. I grabbed a plate from one of the cupboards, one that wasn't dirty or broken, and served myself, breathing in deeply the smell of my wonderfully cooked eggs.

They tasted better than they looked or smelled. In the blink of an eye, they were gone. Then, with my stomach satisfied I went to get dressed for work, leaving my dishes where I'd sat. I stripped out of last night's outfit, tossing the clothes aside and slipped on a pair of black jeans and a loose fitting pink tee-shirt, and I put back on my only pair of sneakers. Before I left, I checked myself once over in the mirror. The makeup I'd worn last night had smeared across my face. "Shit. Forgot about that." With a baby wipe, I removed what was left of it and smiled at my now clean skin. There was something didn't look right to me though. I looked at myself again, squinting at my reflection. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something pink. Sitting beside my toothbrush was a pink bow, one Ginger had given me years ago as a gift. I grinned. After twisting my hair up into a messy bun, I clipped on the bow. It was silly a thing, to feel content with a bow in one's hair, but the sight of it made me smile.

After tripping on an overused towel, I made my way back into my room and grabbed a pair of aviators a drawer in my nightstand. I put them on, darkening my view, and went out into the hall and down to the living room. Checking the clock on the wall, I saw I had a few more minutes until I had to leave. Getting to work early was always preferable to me, what with the hour drive and somewhat unpredictable traffic I wanted to be sure I'd make it. There were sometimes, as well, if I was especially early and there were little to no people yet present, Lafayette would make me a wonderful basket of chicken and fries. As I washed the dishes I'd used to make my breakfast, I smiled at the thought. Only a few minutes later and I'd finished, I then grabbed Ginger's keys again and headed out the door.

The truck was much hotter than it had been an hour ago. The moment I'd started it up, I rolled down the windows. Glowing from the dashboard, the digital clock read 10:27. I smiled. It looked like I would have enough time for some food when I got there.

After a while of driving down the road, I got tired of the sound of the wind slapping hard against my car. I turned on the radio and flipped through the stations until I found a song that caught my attention: " _When you came in the air went out_ ," sang the man on the country radio station I had stopped on. " _And every shadow filled up with doubt_."

As I sang along to the song, enjoying it and the sounds of the morning woods around me, I felt content. When the song had finished another man's voice came over the speaker, though this one wasn't singing. He talked and talked about something I didn't even care enough about to listen to, but it was nice to hear a voice that wasn't inside my head. The hour-long drive seemed to take no longer than five minutes with me laughing and singing along with the radio.

The parking lot of Merlotte's was surprisingly empty when I arrived. I pulled around back near Sam's trailer, as I always did, and parked. The back door to the bar was wide open. Sam usually would give someone hell for doing that. After grabbing my bag, I slid out the cab and, with the press of a button, I locked the car. The first thought hit me as I dropped the keys into an outside pocket on my bag. Something was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Tell me what you think - what you liked, what you didn't - comments are greatly appreciated! Have a fun time reading!


	8. Chapter 7 - A Woman Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scarlett lost one of the most important women in her life... so, the logical thing to do in her memory? Drink until she cannot stand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is currently being edited, so, be ready for some changes. Hopefully, though, the changes are for the better! Sorry for the incredibly long wait, I hope all of this makes up for it!

I took off my sunglass when I went in through the back door, slipping them in alongside Ginger's keys. My ears weren't hit with the sound of laughter I normally heard when entering Merlotte's. It was silent as a graveyard. There was no chatter of any kind, not even gossiping whispers, but the thoughts were loud as hell.

_It's all her fault -_

_Damn fangers -_

_I can't believe she's dead -_

_Maybe if she wasn't fucking that vamp -_

I tuned them out then. It was clear to me who they were talking about. Sookie. She'd been seeing that vampire across the field from her, Bill Compton, but I hadn't known she was sleeping with him. Slowly, I moved further into the restaurant, ignoring the squeaking of the floorboards under my feet, and back into the kitchen. Lafayette and Big John were quiet as the flipped burgers and grilled.

"Guys," I said meekly, only Lafayette turned his head.

"Hey Red," he said sadly, his eyes downcast.

"What's going on?" I asked, dropping my bag by the freezer.

"Adele Stackhouse..." Lafayette managed. Big John broke out into tears. "She was..."

For a moment, I looked into his mind. _She's dead._ I heard him think. "You're kidding,"� I whispered, but the look on his face and the thoughts in his head told me that he wasn't. My stomach lurched, a lump forming in my throat. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. Once more, my head was filled with the thoughts of those around me.

_Dead... I can't believe it -_

_If it wasn't for that fangbanger -_

_Stupid bitch got her grandmother killed -_

_She should be ashamed -_

_I thought she was a nice Christian girl -_

_Stupid vampire fucking slut -_

_God will punish them all -_

Lafayette, seeing me frozen where I stood trying to fight back tears, laid a hand on my shoulder. It knocked enough rational back into me to have me put my shields back up. I stared blankly at him, a tear rolling down my cheek. Mrs. Stackhouse was... dead? Adele was really... gone?

Adele had been an angel to me, especially when I first started working at Merlotte's. It was nearly a year after I had moved in with Ginger when I took the job. Sookie and I had become close friends, bonding over our lost parents. Occasionally, when I'd had a rough day, I would even bunk with her if I was too tired to drive home. Adele had been so kind as to bake me sweets on holidays and my birthday, and she always gave me a card. The amount of money she put in it varied from event to event; one time, on Easter, I received thirty dollars, and then on my birthday, one hundred. There was one Christmas, last year, where I got not only a hand-knit scarf but a check for eight-thousand dollars. _For your college fund,_ she written in the card. She was so kind to me... like the grandmother I'd never had. An aching sadness gripped me, but I would not cry. I wiped at the tears in my eyes and grab my apron. When Arlene came up to the window with an order, I took it.

**1 CHEESEBURGER, NO LETTUCE, NO TOMATO**

I grabbed a cold patty from the fridge and tossed it on the grill. It sizzled in the oil, as did my sadness. I could feel the aching sadness beginning to change. Like black molasses, the heat of a violent anger began to drip down over my senses. I flipped the burger with my hand clenched, white-knuckled, around my spatula. But what was I angry at?

At the killer? Yes.

At Sookie for dating Bill? Yes.

At Adele for leaving me?

For a moment, I paused in my thoughts - "hey, Red, don't burn the patty," said Lafayette when I'd stared blankly to long at nothing - before getting back to work and realizing that the answer to that question was yes. I was angry at her for leaving me and her granddaughter alone. She was the only stable human being that I could have counted on.

I finished making the cheeseburger and rang the bell, shouting angrily into the stillness, "order up!" Arlene swooped back around, giving me a weak nod as a form of hello, before picking up the plate and taking it to the table it belonged to. It was a far to slow day; more people were drinking than eating. All in all, of the lunch rush, I made one cheeseburger and tossed two small side salads. Then, at one o'clock I heard the chime of the bell at the front, signifying the entrance of someone.

"Hey Sam," said a voice, its tone much too cheery tone for a place that was this disheartened. "Ya got someone named 'Red' workin' for ya?"

"Yeah," I heard Sam reply, "she's in the back. Jason... are you okay?"

The man, Jason, sounded confused. "Yeah, why?"

Sam didn't say anything anymore, but I heard footsteps making their way back towards the kitchen. A blonde head appeared at the window.

"Hey, Lafayette," said Jason cheerfully. "You seen a 'Red'?"

He nodded his head in my direction. I stepped away from my grill, wiping my hands on my apron, and moved up to the window where Jason stood. He smiled happily at me and reached into his pocket. His face looked familiar to me. Why?

"Jason?"

He looked up, pulling from his pocket Ginger's ancient flip phone. He grinned, "yeah. You 'Red'?"

"The name's Scarlett," I took the phone, watching his smile drop and confusion spread across his face.

"Scarlett? Scarlett Tucker?" He exclaimed, a smile breaking out. I nodded solemnly. "My sister talks about you all the time!"

"Sister?"

"Yeah, Sookie."

"Sookie is your sister?" I questioned. "She never really mentioned you..."

His smile dropped. "Really?" He paused and looked around at the people, whose eyes were glaring at us. Even Lafayette and Big John had stopped what they were doing to listen. "Hey," he whispered, leaning in over the counter. "Why is everyone so quiet?"

"You really don't know?" I asked, the tightness in my chest returning.

"Know what?"

I sighed heavily, feeling my eyes begin to water. "Jason, Adele is..." I trailed off, unable to finish my sentence.

"She's what?" I looked away and I heard his sudden intake of breath. "No... You're joking." Tears began to fall as I blinked, I shook my head and looked back at him. An angry flush of redness grew to color his cheeks. His handsome brow furrowed. In his eyes I could see worry brewing. "No! She can't be!" He stormed away, the front doors slamming shut behind him.

Lafayette ' _tsk_ 'ed in disapproval, "you shouldn't've done that, Red."

I ignored him and went back to work, though there wasn't hardly any work to do. Soon enough Merlotte's cleared out, and around two o'clock the place was a waste land. Only at six did business begin to pick up. Couples coming from dates stumbled in, laughing, hugging and kissing. I sneered at their laughter as I cooked their food, eagerly waiting for closing and the fall of the sun. Sometime throughout the day, perhaps when I'd tossed the first side salad that turned out to belong to Maxine Fortenberry, I had actually decided I would go to Fangtasia. With a burning want to forget the last few hours, I was awaiting the time when I could go and drink without a care and have my aunt drive me home because I was too drunk to stand.

The last customer's finally left around eight thirty, and the sun had set a little over an hour ago.

"We're closing up early tonight, guys!" shouted Sam, locking the front doors.

I said my goodbyes to Big John and Lafayette and headed towards the door. Behind me, someone shouted my name and I paused. Sam soon came running after me.

"Red!" I turned towards him. "Red! Wait!"

"Hey, Sam," I said with as much of a smile I could muster. "What's up?"

He shifted around on the balls of his feet for a moment, hands shoved deep in his pockets. "Are you alright?" he finally asked.

"Yes," I replied, though it was clear my lie wasn't fooling him.

"'Cause, it's just that, I knew how much Adele was of a grandmother to you and -"

I raised my hand and stopped him short. "I'm fine," I quietly said, making my way back to Ginger's truck. Before pulling out onto the road and speeding home, I waved to him goodbye. The door to Ginger's dark and cluttered home slammed shut behind me. Quickly replacing the sadness I'd felt the hour drive home was a pulsing anger. I stomped up the stairs to change, ripping my shirt over my head and my pants from my legs and throwing them in a pile at the corner of my room. Quite aggressively, I scoured through the close in my closet, shoving aside anything with color, until I found something that caught my eye. A short black dress, with flowing lace sleeves. I looked at it for a moment, running my fingers down the fabric, and then my eyes caught the time on my clock. 9:45. With renewed vigor, I readied myself for the evening - I pulled the dress on over my head, darkened my eyes and my lips, unclipped the bow from my hair, and donned the bat necklace from the night before. I left my sneakers on, since my plan was to get blackout drunk I did not want to be stumbling around in heels. Finally, I checked myself in the mirror. The girl looking back at me was dark in a sad and sexy way. I almost smiled at my reflection, but again caught the time and left.

The news of Adele had turned my insides to ice. Even inside the blistering heat of the cab, even as I felt the droplets of sweat sliding down my neck, I felt cold. I sped down the black back country road to Fangtasia, my bright headlights guiding the way. The sun had set sometime before closing, leaving me trapped in a literal darkness as well as figurative. The darkness also meant that there would be a line once I got to Fangtasia. And I was right.

It wasn't hardly ten forty-five and yet the parking lot was packed, especially for it being a Monday night. I parked closer to the door this time and walked as fast as my legs could take me up to the velvet rope. Pam was standing there once again. She gave me a fanged smile and a wink at my annoyance and distress. Without a word, she let me in. I gave her a curt nod before slipping past her and storming over to the bar. Chow was there again as well, smiling kindly at me. It was an odd smile to see on a vampire, but it warmed me some inside.

"What'll it be?" he asked, sliding some fangbanger who was thinking about fucking Eric's brains out his beer.

"Whatcha got?" I grumbled, hopping onto a stool.

"Ever tried vodka?" he questioned with a raised eyebrow. "You look like you could use something strong."

I nodded sharply. "Hit me."

He poured me the shot and slid it to me. I picked up the glass and held it in my hand, looking briefly at the liquid that sloshed around inside before saying to hell with it and downing it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Tell me what you think - what you liked, what you didn't - comments are greatly appreciated! Have a fun time reading!


	9. Chapter 8 - Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After only one meeting, Eric has become possessive of Scarlett. "Mine," he says, but Scarlett doesn't belong to anyone... right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is currently being edited, so, be ready for some changes. Hopefully, though, the changes are for the better! Sorry for the incredibly long wait, I hope all of this makes up for it!

The liquid burned as it slid down my throat. With a smirk Chow slid me another, which I downed twice as fast as the first. Before I knew it two had turned into four and from there I lost count. All I knew was that I had men coming up and flirting with me and I was flirting back. It was not the smartest thing to do, that I knew, but by that time I didn't care. I was drunk. At least, I felt drunk. At some point in the night, a young man came up to me. He was in his early to mid-twenties and, to my blurry eyes, quite attractive.

"Hi," he said, his voice low and gravelly - for a second, the wannabe vampire King crossed my mind. They sounded quite similar. "What's a pretty girl like you doing all alone in a vampire bar?" I threw the man a half-smile, shrugging my shoulders in answer to his question. "Do you mind if I sit here?" At the shake of my head, he smiled, flashing me a fanged grin. The two of us began to talk as he bought me another drink. It started out innocently enough, but then he began to ask more personal questions that, while sober, I would've had great difficulty answering while not blushing.

"So," he began, leaning in closer to me - I could see Chow eyeing the two of us out of the corner of my eye - so that his unnecessary breath fanned across my face. "Do you want to get out of here?" Not a second after he had asked that question was he flying through the air. I watched, mouth agape, as the young and handsome vampire got to his feet in a blur of motion. He hissed and snarled at the person who'd thrown him, the person who was now standing in front of me. Eric Northman.

Like the night before, the action in the bar came to a screeching halt. Every eye in the near vicinity was watching the scene of vampire vs. vampire, expect for me. Only the man in front of me intrigued me in my tipsy state. I dragged my blurry eyes slowly up the long plane of Eric's tee-shirt covered back to find his sculpted shoulders dangerously tensed. The sight entranced me. How could something so stony look almost alive? He looked almost like one of those "living" statues, though a very angry statue.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" The young man sneered.

"She. Is. Mine." Eric breathed, hissing at the young man's scowl.

Immediately, the fangs of the younger man went away. "I'm sorry," he apologized, looking once more behind Eric at me. "I didn't know."

"No, but now you do." In a blur of motion Eric had grabbed the young man by the collar of his shirt and taken him out the front door. I heard a gut wrenching scream and then Eric was back, blood dripping off his knuckles. He didn't even spare me a glance, but he grabbed my arm as he passed by, tugging me off my bar stool. "Come with me," he growled. I stumbled along after him, mouth agape in shock.

Behind me, the club returned to its loud, obnoxious state. Near the end of a long, dark hall, we finally reached a door. Eric twisted the knob and swung it open, it slammed loudly against the back wall. I flinched at the sound, following unsteadily behind Eric. The room we'd walked into looked a great deal like Ginger's study. Against the left wall were racks piled up to the ceiling with seemingly useless things. Towards the back wall there was a desk, which a computer sat upon and against the wall to my right there was a wide, red leather couch, which looked very well worn. Eric let me go and stomped over to the desk, wiping his fists with the bottom of his shirt.

"What the _fuck_ were you doing?" He snapped. I was shocked at his tone and at a loss for words. "Scarlett!" He was in my face, fangs bared, before I could blink, his chest heaving with unnecessary breath.

"I was drinking..." I replied unsurely, my fuzzy mind running a mile a minute as I tried to comprehend the situation. Eric Northman had thrown the man who was flirting with me out of his bar... and he called me his...

"You were flirting," he said with a sneer, as if the word offended him. His muscles grew tighter, twitching every few seconds with rage. I saw the skin of his hand drawing thin over his knuckles and the vein that should have been pulsing in anger standing out on the side of his neck.

"And?" I retorted, crossing my arms. "So what if I was? It's not your business to tell me what I can and can't do, or who I can and can't flirt with!" His eyes darkened and he took a step towards me, forcing me backwards. "And what is with the 'she is mine' bullshit? I do not belong to you, Northman! You don't even know me!"

"That is where you're wrong. I know plenty," he stated with a grin, forcing me back another step, and then another, and then anther, until my back hit the wall. He caged me in with his arms, leaning over me, making me feel small. "I had Pam do a little research on you after you left."

"Stalker much?"

"You... intrigue me," he said with a smirk, his piercing eyes dancing across my face. "I like this lipstick. Did you wear it for me?"

"Oh, fuck off!" I shoved hard against his chest, but the man wouldn't move. "Let me go!"

"No." In one of his large hands he captured both my wrists, pinning them to the wall above my head.  

"For fucks sake, Northman!" I thrashed against his hold, though Eric only smiled. "So I flirted with some guy, why the fuck does that matter to you?"

All humor vanished from his face, which turned to the likeness of stone in the very next second. He lowered his face towards mine, until I could feel the cold radiating from his bare skin.

"I. Don't. Like it." He finally growled.

In a burst of violent anger, I kicked him hard in the chest. The shock of my actions sent him stumbling backwards enough, dropping my wrists as he did so, so I could stand straight to confront him. "I don't give a _damn_ if you like it or not! As I said: you don't own me, Northman! I am free to do whatever the fuck it is I want to do!" His cool eyes glared hard at me, but I wouldn't let myself be afraid. I had lost a good woman in my life and I wasn't going to have Eric Northman ruin my plans of getting blackout drunk in her memory. "Now answer my goddamn question, you asshole: why - the - _FUCK_ \- do - you - care - if - I - fucking - _flirt_?"

The harsh impact of my back against the wall was enough to force the breath out of me. Once again, Eric caged me within his arms, his hands pinning my wrists to the wall. He pressed his cool body flush to mine and my breathing stuttered. The loud sound of my heart pounding rushed to my ears, drowning out the sound of the bass only a few feet away just outside the office door. Eric's eyes flicked quickly from my face to my lips to my neck. I could feel my veins pulsing, desperately carrying blood to my brain. And, apparently, so could he.

Eric turned my head softly with his cool fingers. I tensed, holding my breath, as he ran his nose along the exposed curve of my neck. "E-Eric..." I stuttered meekly, as he breathed in heavily. He muttered something under his breath, something in Swedish, and breathed at my pulse point once more. "Eric, please..." Once more I tried, but to no avail, to free myself.

"Stop." For the first time that night, I listened to him. "You want to know why it angers me when other men throw themselves at you?" My voice seemed unwilling to cooperate in that moment, for I opened my mouth to speak yet no sound came out, so I simply nodded in reply. Slowly, he raised his head, and his icy eyes met mine. There was something in them - a story to be told; a story of loneliness, tragedy, sorrow, love - that enraptured me, making me unable to look away. "Because, Miss Scarlett Tucker." His lips curled into a little smile as he said my name, as if it was something special to him. With every one of my stuttering breaths his face inched closer to mine, till I could feel the air he breathed flutter across my lips. Something began to blossom in the pit of my stomach, a warm feeling that, coupled with my slight drunkenness, made my head begin to feel fuzzy. When he spoke next, the words were quiet and breathy, as if what I was feeling he was feeling also.

You. Are. _Mine."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Tell me what you think - what you liked, what you didn't - comments are greatly appreciated! Have a fun time reading!


	10. Chapter 9 - Dammit, Pam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First, she barges in without knocking. And then she goes and tells Scarlett Eric's business! Dammit, Pam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a - somewhat - new chapter (though, really, the last one was the new one)! Since now I'm a college student I find myself having much more time on my hands than in high school. Hopefully I will be updating this more regularly! Thank you for your wait, enjoy!

Whatever might've come from that fuzzy feeling was stopped before it had a chance to begin as the door to the office was so rudely opened. In waltzed Pam, a sly smile on her lips as she watched Eric step away from me. I sagged against the wall, rubbing at the place where he'd held my wrists just a bit too tightly. He looked positively murderous. If looks could kill, Pam would've been dead... again.

"I just came to tell you," she pointed a manicured finger at me, "that you have a visitor."

I cocked my head in confusion, until Pam stepped to the side and there stood Dimitri with a worried look on his handsome face. I grinned at him as he ran in, brushing past the much taller Eric, and wrapped his strong arms tightly around me. Eric now had his eyes trained on Dimitri with a murderous intention.

"I'm sorry," Dimitri muttered. "I know how much she meant to you."

"Thank you... But, how'd you know?"

"See, I went to come get you from work, and you weren't there, but I overheard your co-workers talking about her," he explained.

"How'd you know I'd be here?"

"Last night," he said with a sheepish smile. "You came back home smelling like vampire and when I heard the news... well, I figured you go somewhere to drink without a care."

Behind us, Eric snarled. Dimitri turned his head, bearing his fangs to hiss at the older man.

"Excuse me," Pam butt in, rolling her eyes as the two men stared each other down. "What's going on exactly."

"A friend of mine is dead," I managed, a lump once more forming in my throat. The sadness returned to me, bringing back tears to my eyes.

"Who?" asked Pam.

"Her name was Adele. Adele Stackhouse."

"Stackhouse?" Asked Eric, breaking his stare with Dimitri.

I nodded and he retracted his fangs. "She was like a grandmother to me."

Eric exchanged a look with Pam and then she was gone. It wasn't a second later until she returned, with a stack of papers and the order for Dimitri leave. He shot a glare in Eric's direction, one the taller man didn't notice as he was looking over the papers Pam had brought in, but nonetheless complied, leaving behind Pam. I watched Eric in silence as he read over the papers, playing with the hem of one of my sleeves and wondering exactly what their content was. With a heavy sigh, he dropped them down on his desk, running a hand over his pale face. After a long moment of silence, he approached me once more.

"How do you know the Stackhouse's?"

"I work with Sookie," I said with a shrug.

He seemed to be thinking, his expression turning blank, his eyes hardening. I watched in fascination at the concentration on his face. It was mesmerizing, really. Just then, Pam came back.

"We've got a problem," she droned, looking bored. "You remember the hick from last night. The one hitting on that one," her eyes flicked to me.

Eric, too, looked my way. "Yes. What about him?"

"He's back. And he brought friends."

Eric grumbled something in a language that I didn't understand and told Pam to wait with me. She flitted over to Eric's desk as he stormed out. All I heard was, "hey! Fanger!" before the door slammed shut. Pam sat herself comfortably atop Eric's desk, kicking her legs and looking at me with a twinkle in her dull eyes.

"So," she began, "you know Sookie?"

I nodded, "it seems you all do as well."

She nodded, flashing me a smile. "Oh yes, yes we do. Very well."

I smiled softly, wiping at a tear that was rolling down my cheek. "Why do I feel like there is less to your acquaintance with Miss Stackhouse than what you imply?"

A laugh erupted from her chest and the sound made me feel a bit brighter. "I can see why Eric likes you. You're funny."

"Eric likes me?" I raised an eyebrow at her statement.

She rolled her eyes with a grin. "He called you his. Or did you forget what just happened a minute ago?"

"But I'm not his. I don't belong to anyone."

"Well, that doesn't matter right now. Just ask yourself: why do you think he wants to talk to you?"

"Talk?" I laughed.

"Well, that and fuck." She stated blandly. "You were on his mind all on last night. It was annoying really - I mean, he actually had me go a dig up information on you. First, I had to hear about Godric coming to visit and then suddenly he cannot stop raving about you and -"

"Who's Godric?"

She paused and looked at me, startled by my interruption. It took her a moment to answer me as she thought over her words. "An old friend," was what she settled on.

"No, he's something more than that, isn't he?"

"Perhaps he is, but, even if I wanted to tell you about him, that's not my information to share."

"Alright then... Where's he from?" I questioned, finally sitting down. The leather couch below me sagged, the cushions enveloping me in a warm pseudo-embrace.

"Dallas."

There was a loud noise like breaking glass outside the door. We ignored it.

"Is he a vampire?"

She grinned, "yes, and a very old one at that."

"How old?"

"At least two thousand."

When's he coming?"

"Sometime this week," she droned, checking the beds of her fingernails.

There was another noise outside, one that made Pam roll her eyes, and then there was silence. Eric came in moment later, looking spotless and unharmed save for the blood dripping from his chin. Though I assumed that blood was not his. He confirmed my suspicion, explaining that the other men were not so lucky as last night. When he asked us what exactly we were talking about I began telling him about my inquiring of Godric.

"Pam tells me he's an old friend of yours who is coming to visit this week," I stated.

Eric nodded, shooting a glare to Pam, who hid her smile quite poorly. "He is a... very old friend."

"Do you mind if I meet him?"

Both Pam and Eric turned to me, the looks of shock on their faces perhaps outweighing the feeling of the same emotion I held in my gut.

"You want to meet Godric?" Eric asked slowly.

I shrugged my shoulders, "why not? I am very interested in your kind and, if he's as old as you say he is, I would love to ask him a few questions about history. After all, that is one of my majors."

A slow smile spread across Eric's face and he nodded, but Pam's expression of shock didn't budge from its place on her marble-like features, not until Eric, with a shout of something in Swedish, had her up and moving towards the door. Pam came back moments later with a glass of water and a pill, it was only then that I noticed the splitting pain in my head. She handed them to Eric, who then proceeded to hand them to me, and left once more. I took the pill without complaint and downed the glass of water immediately after. The relief was almost instant, but then, so was the drowsiness. I laid my head back against the back of the couch, my eyelids feeling heavy.

"Shit..." I groaned.

"Are you alright?" Asked Eric with a chuckle.

I nodded before a yawn was torn from me. "Tired is all."

"Rest here, you'll be safe." I gave him a pointed look to which he replied with a laugh. "Ginger will be here during the day and I swear not to lay a finger on you."

"What about Pam?"

"Her too," he laughed.

"And Chow?"

"He goes home at closing, won't even be here."

Tiredly, I nodded, shucking off my shoes and curling up into a ball on the couch.

"Would you like something more comfortable?" he asked, moving to one of the racks that held many brown cardboard boxes.

"Like what?"

He tossed a shirt my direction. It was red, with the Fangtasia logo on the front in black. I thanked him in between yawns, sitting up and slipping the shirt over top of my head. Eric raised an eyebrow. With some difficulty, I unzipped my dress and, one arm at a time, slipped my arm out of the dress sleeves and into the shirt. The dress then fell to the floor as I stood. A fire bloomed in Eric's eyes and I blushed, kicking the dress into a pile along with my jacket and shoes. After a moment of contemplation, I unclasped my necklace, laying it gently atop my dress. Again, I curled up on the couch, feeling a great deal more comfortable than before. Eric gave a laughed as, one final time, I thanked him.

"Good night, _raring_ ," I heard him say before, finally, the world slowly faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Tell me what you think - what you liked, what you didn't - comments are greatly appreciated! Have a fun time reading!
> 
> There is one Swedish word in here, if you'd like to know what it is, here is the translation:  
> raring - dear


	11. Chapter 10 - Classwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day after Scarlett's heavy drinking and she's late for class. The next day at work, she reveals her assignment and shocks the kitchen staff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so NOW is a REAL new chapter! I hope you all enjoy, I know it took me a while to even think up this concept and then even longer to actually write this. I can't thank ya'll enough for your patience with this, and me. Anyway, enjoy the very first, actually new chapter of The Daydreamer! YAY!

The bittersweet smell of coffee awoke me. "Scar," came a voice as I blinked my eyes open. I flinched at the bright light, rubbing my eyes until they were cleared of sleep. "Scarlett." After a moment, the room around me unblurred into clarity; Eric's office looked just as it had the night before - the papers his progeny had brought to him were still set off to the side in a disorganized pile and on the computer screen was the company's logo, bouncing high and low across the monitor - only he was no longer sitting at his desk, nor was Pam sitting on it. "Honey, you up?" It was only then I recognized that someone was knocking on the closed door. ' _Tap, tap, tap'_ "Scarlett, it's me, Ginger." ' _Tap, tap, tap'_ "I made breakfast."

"I'll be out in a minute," I managed, pushing myself to sit upright. Besides a faint throbbing in my temple, there wasn't any of the pain I expected after a night of heavy drinking. Whatever they'd given me must've been strong.

"Okay, sweetie, just come out whenever you're ready." The slapping sound of her shoes rubber soles against the concrete floor faded as she returned to her coffee.

Pictures of last night flashed through my mind, but they were broken, half-pictures. It was like a movie that was filmed out of order. _Eric threw the young, handsome vampire out on his ear... I was dancing precariously in the crowds... Chow had poured me my fifth shot of vodka... They knew about Sookie... Dimitri... Eric had called me his..._

I groaned, rubbing at my temples. "It's too early for this shit," I decided with a sigh, unwillingly leaving the warm comfort of the couch. The cold air hit my bare legs as I opened the office door and the smell of something burnt reached my nose. Ginger was sat at the bar, a plate piled high with some runny, egg-like substance in front of her. Beside that were two charcoal black pieces of toast slathered with white butter. As she drank her coffee, her eyes skimmed over the daily newspaper.

"Morning," I said, slipping into the seat beside her.

Ginger looked up from her paper - the headline of which read VAMPIRE NEST FOUND DESTROYED IN VIRGINIA - and smiled. "Morning, Scar. Shame, isn't it?" She nodded her head towards the paper.

I shrugged, grabbing the extra plate she handed me. "Not really, the world's probably better off." She gaped at me as she served me some of the food she'd made.

"Scarlett! You don't mean that!" She passed me one of the pieces of toast, which I declined with a shake of my head. "What about your friend, Dimitri? How would you feel if he died?"

"Dimitri's different, he's -"

"And what about Eric?"

Wide-eyed, I looked at my aunt, a flush of color running up the back of my neck. "What about Eric," I finally managed to say.

"I heard from Pam the two of you were getting pretty cozy last night," she said with a grin. "I mean, I don't blame you. How long has it been since you've had a boyfriend?"

I ignored her question and asked one of my own. "Do you always believe everything Pam says?"

"Mostly," Ginger shrugged, "why should she lie? She's got no reason to."

"She's a vampire, Ginger," I said plainly, taking a bite of Ginger's home cooked breakfast. Whatever it was she'd cooked, it wasn't eggs - the taste was far to sulfuric and salty. For her benefit, I swallowed the bite, forcing a smile when she beamed at me.

"You want something to drink?" Ginger hopped off her stool at my nod, skipping around the bar. "And, you know, you shouldn't judge _all_ vampires, honey. They're not all bad." Her head disappeared under the counter for a moment and when she popped back up she held in one hand a bottle of wine and in the other an old looking carton of orange juice. "Which one?"

"How old's the orange juice?"

She checked the date. "Only a few da- no... wait, that says... It's a year old."

"Guess I'll have the wine."

"Good choice."

Without another word, she poured us both a glass. I thanked her with a nod and took a sip. It was quite different from the vodka I had drunk last night. The dark red liquid was sweet and it didn't burn as much going down. A pleasant warmth settled in my stomach, a bubbly feeling slithered up my spine to reach my head. Despite my dark and dreary surroundings, I felt content.

"You have class today?" Asked Ginger, hopping back in her seat, bottle of wine in hand.

I nodded, pushing around the food on my plate, "have to be online at four."

She looked up at the wall and her eyes went wide. "Then you'd better hurry, sweetie. It's almost time for your class to start."

"What!?"

I followed her gaze to the clock on the wall. The hour hand was creeping closer and closer to four, the minute hand jerking just past nine. "Jesus -"

"Watch it!" Said Ginger.

"Is it really three forty-five?"

"Yes, it is. Go, head on home and have a good class."

"My clothes -"

"I'm washing 'em. Here," she tossed me her keys, "Eric gave them back to me last night, but since I'm staying here..."

"Thanks, Ginger," I smiled at her as I hopped off the bar stool.

"No problem, hun."

I gave my aunt a quick peck on the cheek before running towards the door. The outside was hot, but not as it had been the last few days. Ginger's truck was the only car in the lot and conveniently parked quite near to the door. A hiss escaped me as I slid inside the cab, my bare legs burned and stuck to the black leather seats. I fiddled with the Fangtasia shirt I wore, pulling it down to cover the topmost parts of my thighs, and started the car. The roads, like any other afternoon, were nearly barren. However, on the way back to Ginger's, I somehow managed to hit every. Single. Stoplight. Anxiously, I glanced down at the clock on the dashboard as I approached the final red light. 3:56. When the light turned green, I pressed down hard on the gas - it was only then I noticed that in addition to having on no pants, I had no shoes as well.

The truck screeched to a halt as I turned up the driveway. 3:58, read the clock on the dash. I wrenched the keys from the ignition, pushing open the door and dropping to the ground. The impact stung my feet, but my mind was only focused on my class. Next door, sitting in her rocking chair on the porch was Mrs. Frank.

"Hello, Scarlett," she said sweetly.

"Hello, Mrs. Frank," I fumbled with the lock on Ginger's door, searching her ring of keys for the right one.

"Are you alright, dear?" She asked, and the creaking of the rocker stopped.

"Fine, Mrs. Frank." I finally found the right key. Jamming it in the lock, I turned the knob and shoved open the door. "Bye, Mrs. Frank."

"Goodbye, dear," I heard her say before I slammed the door shut.

_I wonder what's gotten her so worked up? And where are her pants?_

Loudly, and from somewhere in the clutter of Ginger's living room, sounded an alarm like tinkling bells. "Shit." I sprinted into the mess, throwing aside paper and dirty clothes until I found my computer bag. Beside my laptop, my phone was vibrating. My alarm for class had gone off. Feverishly, I pulled my laptop from my bag and opened the screen, my near empty desktop page appeared. With a few drags of my finger against the keypad and clicks of the keys, I breathed a sigh of relief as I logged onto class.

The live feed video popped up on the page - it was in a classroom somewhere far away from me. A greying, older man stood in front of a chalkboard which had all sorts of scribblings on it detailing the timeline of, from what I could tell, the Middle Ages. On the table in front of the man was a computer. It let out a pinging sound, to which the man looked down at the screen. A slow smile grew on his thin lips. 

"Nice of you to join us, Miss Tucker," said my professor.

 _Sorry, Dr. Keiser_ , I wrote into the chatroom page.

"It's alright," the old man smiled at the camera, raising a brow as if he could see me in my disheveled state. "Rough night?"

_You have no idea._

***

"How you doin', Red," asked Lafayette the next afternoon. "Feelin' alright?" I nodded at him and smiled, putting down my bag and picking my apron up from off its hook like I always did. "You look different," he said, narrowing his eyes at me.

"What?"

"You're smiling..."

I raised a brow, letting out a laugh as he drew closer to me. "Is that different from what I usually do?" In the window, Arlene appeared, she placed her order slip on the rack and waved hello to me. I waved back, picking up the order to read what was on it.

**1 BACON CHEDDAR BURGER W/ FRIES**

"What's gotten into you, honey?" Asked Big John with a laugh, as I flitted from fridge to fryer. The fries sizzled in the oil, bobbing like apples in water. 

"Nothing." I replied, grabbing a patty and tossing it on the already hot stove top. The grease sizzled and popped and I found myself laughing at the sound. After a moment, I grabbed a spatula and went to flip it.

"Oh, it's something," said Lafayette, leaning on the island, his eyes still carefully watching me. "Little Red... have you got a boyfriend?" My grilling arm froze mid-air, letting the patty I was flipping drop back to the stove top with a greasy ' _splop'_. A blush colored my cheeks as his words brought back to my mind a certain vampire, who, only two nights previous, had me helplessly pinned to the wall of his office. I sputtered out lame protests as Lafayette's lips stretched into a triumphant smile. "You do! What's his name?"

"I don't have a -"

"Is it that black-haired beauty who showed up Monday night lookin' for you?"

"Dimitri?"

"Ooo! Our little girl is growing up!" Laughed Big John.

"What? No, he's not -"

"Tara!" Lafayette called, sticking his head out the serving window.

"What!" His cousin replied, annoyance clear in her tone.

"Lafayette, stop!"

"Pour us all some drinks!"

"No no no no no no -"

Her head appeared around the corner, her braids swinging. "Now, why in the hell would I do that?" She asked, raising a well-shaped brow.

"Red's finally got herself a boyfriend."

" _Lafayette_!"

"What?" He looked back at me as if, somehow, I was ruining his fun - which, technically, I was.

"I do not have a boyfriend!"

"Then what's got you so smiley, honey?" Big John asked before Lafayette had the chance.

A new flush rose to my cheeks and, nervously, my fingers toyed with the end of my apron. The two men leaned in closer to me, waiting to hear what I had to say. I took in a breath, pushing past my sudden embarrassment and confessing:

"Actually... it's a... school assignment."

"Only you would be so perky about school," laughed Big John.

Lafayette huffed and rolled his eyes, mumbling something underneath his breath before he shouted back to his cousin, "never mind." He moved back to the stove, eyeing me as if I was crazy.

"Pay him no mind, Red," Big John wacked Lafayette on the back of his head with a spatula.

Lafayette turned, glaring daggers at the smiling man. "Old man," he said, "I have no problem kickin' yo ass!"

Big John ignored him. "What's your assignment?"

"It's for History," Big John hummed in interest and smiled at me, nodding his head in inclination to continue. "I have to interview someone older and write a report on them and their life experiences."

When the meat of the patty had browned enough, I grabbed a square of cheese from the fridge and slapped it on top. I watched it bubble around the edges conforming to the lumpy shape. "Have any idea about who you're going to do it on?" I shrugged, grabbing some bacon and throwing it down on the stovetop beside the burger.

"No, not yet."

"But?"

"But..." the bacon sizzled in its own grease, the juicy smell of pork hitting my nose and making my mouth water. "There is this vampire that I may be meeting later this week. I was thinking about maybe asking him. I mean, he is supposedly over two thousand years old."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Tell me what you think - what you liked, what you didn't - comments are greatly appreciated! Have a fun time reading!


End file.
